The Startled Rabbit
by Iceworth
Summary: Vicente took a critical look at the brown-haired boy in front of him as he ate. He was skinny, and horribly shy. He probably wouldn’t last long in the Brotherhood. Rated for themes.


_(A/N: Don't own Oblivion, that belongs to Bethesda.)_

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Both hands on the clock pointed upwards in a perfect, straight line when the boy came in. Rain hammered on the metal lid of the supposedly-disused well, and the ominous murmurs of _"Welcome home_," whispered through the Sanctuary. The boy stood in a growing puddle on the marble floor, as a woman with raven hair pushed her hood back. She yanked his from his head as well. Sodden, brown hair plastered to his face as droplets ran down his nose and cheeks. Wide eyes glanced around the chilling room.

"Tracked water all _through_ the abandoned house," the woman, Tessa, clucked. Her forehead creased in a scowl, and she rose her voice. "Missy! Get _over_ here, we've got a new recruit!"

"Yes, Speaker?" two doors swung open, and a girl of about fourteen years of age padded into the room. Her bare feet made no sound on the cold floor, and ringlets of brown hair had settled on her shoulder. She blinked at the lanky boy in front of her, who bowed his head when she looked at him. "New kid?"

"What do you _think_, idiot?" Tessa rolled her eyes. "Get him some clean clothes. No armour, just _clothes_. He's _sopping_."

The boy tightly drew his moth-eaten cloak around him. He looked pleadingly over at Missy, who just looked to Tessa. "We don't have anyone his age here."

"He should be tall enough for Roland's clothes or some shit, _I_ don't know, stupid child," said Tessa. Missy scarpered. She let out an exasperated sigh, looking to the frightened boy. "Don't worry, kid," she said. "The master of the Sanctuary should be around – he fucking _hates_ the rain." Her voice climbed. "Vicente! I've got a task for you! New kid!" She looked back to the boy. "He looks fucking scary to some, but don't worry, he doesn't _bite_." She snickered.

"Mother!" Missy returned. "I mean – Speaker! This was all I could find!" and she held out a bundle of dark green cloth.

"You little fucker!" called out a voice from the doors through which Missy had just reappeared. "Those are _mine_, don't give them to some rat!"

"Dammit, Missy," said Tessa, scowling. "Don't steal from visitors. Ungolim, I don't suppose you'd mind we borrowed them?"

A red-headed bosmer that looked only a few years older than the boy beside Tessa dawdled beside a pillar. He leaned sideways a bit to get a good look at the new kid, who didn't miss the fact that the elf didn't seem to want to get too close. "He'll get them _wet_," he said. "I have to go back to Bravil as soon as the storm's over!"

"Ungolim, the kid's fricken skin and bone."

"Ugh, fine," the 'mer rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, back towards the dormitory. Missy tried to dump the clothes into the arms of the new kid, who recoiled as if the material was on fire.

"You can find somewhere to put them on," said Tessa, but her soft voice was audibly strained. The boy didn't do anything. "Go on, wouldn't want to seem ungrateful, would you?"

The manipulation didn't work either. In fact, it made the boy shrink even more, with a scowl, determinedly ignoring the clothes…

"Oh, damn it, where's that lazy git?" Tessa scowled. "VICENTE! Sithis _damn him_, he told me he'd be _in_ tonight!"

"I'll get him," said Missy. She flitted to the corridors and out of sight.

Tessa looked to the kid. "Listen. Are you going to tell me your name now?"

The boy didn't answer. He stared at his feet as if expecting them to move without his permission. Tessa bit her tongue. _Infuriating little_…

Recruiting was always the worst. The _kids_ got in without having to do a test. And they always came in either broken, like this child, or stark raving _mad_. Whether the "mad" was "insane" or "really pissed off" tended to vary between the two. Usually a combination.

But, to a certain degree, they were _all_ broken. And in Tessa's experience, it was the quietest kids who were the most dangerous…

"Vicente's sleeping," said Missy, when she reappeared.

Tessa pressed her palm to her forehead. Stupid _brat_. "Wake him _up_. There's a new recruit he needs to take care of, tell him that."

"He won't… bite me, will he? I've never had to wake him up before."

"If he bites you, you deserve it," snapped Tessa, and her daughter scurried off again. She looked at the kid warily.

_What would Vicente do…?_

"What do you think of Melanie?" she said, trying to make the kid at ease a bit. "Little brat, isn't she? She's not much younger than you. We all call her Missy, though."

Somehow, that only made the kid shrink more. Like he was a snail, retreating into his shell. Oh, _damn it_. Vicente was better equipped to deal with this kind of thing, vampire or not. Like he'd said once, "You, Speaker, have the empathy levels of a brick."

A groan alerted her to his presence, as the vampire padded up to them. He was in his socks and dayclothes, but looked exhausted. "What is it, Speaker?"

"New recruit," said Tessa, shoving him forward – but the boy squeaked and ducked back behind Tessa. "Ruddy coward, he's not going to _bite_ you."

"That's enough, Tessa," one of Vicente's fists still rubbed a pink eye, and the other peered at the new recruit. "Imperial, eh? What's his name?"

"No idea," said Tessa. "His father carked it – 'fell down' some stairs, if you get my drift. I had his last name, but forgot it. Some breton name, which is weird."

The boy hunched in himself even further, if it was possible, eyes on the ground. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

Vicente dropped his hand from his face, and straightened up. "What's your name?"

The kid didn't say anything.

"Not to worry," said Vicente. "I'll take care of him. Child, come here."

Tessa suspected that if the child were up to giving eye-contact, he'd stare at Vicente in a way that said, _you have __got__ to be kidding me_.

"He won't _bite_," she said again, feeling what little patience she had fray at the edges, and she dragged the kid out from behind her. She pressed the palm of her hand to his back and pushed, sending him stumbling to the vampire's side – and again, he recoiled away from him. Vicente hid his eyes behind his palm. Missy grimaced in sympathy. The boy reluctantly hovered near Vicente – but out of arm's reach, she noticed. "Feed him up and get some words out of him."

The boy flinched. Looked terrified. Tessa smirked. Missy whispered, "She doesn't mean torture, don't worry."

Somehow, he didn't look convinced.

"Alright," Vicente moved over to the still-wet teenager, who jumped when Vicente put a hand on his shoulder.

"He acts like a damn grasshopper," said a voice.

"Oh, Ungolim, for fuck's sake, go to _bed_," said Tessa, receiving a glare from the bosmer, who was back by the pillar.

"Can I have my clothes back?" said Ungolim.

"I'll take him," Vicente ignored the bosmer, and began to steer the new kid away. Only a few steps away from Tessa, he began shaking like a leaf. Vicente sighed. "It's alright," he said. "New places are always the worst, aren't they?"

The boy blinked, but didn't make any other indication of having heard.

He'd be better in a few days, thought Vicente. Not completely, but he'd be better. It always took a while for the new recruits to heal, but heal they always did. "Don't worry about Tessa," murmured the vampire. "She's cruel to her own daughter. She won't be around much, anyway. The Speakers are always away, which is why we always have a Master of the Sanctuary – me."

The words had its opposite effect – the boy seemed even _more_ nervous. Damn it, was he one of those kids that latched onto the abusive ones? Was he worried that Tessa wouldn't be here? Funny how that happened. Or – and Vicente wanted to kick himself for forgetting. "Don't let my appearance unnerve you. The needs and tenents of the Dark Brotherhood come before my needs as a vampire."

Not that there was a single tenant that said, "Thou shalt not suck the blood of thy Dark Brothers or Sisters."

A dark guardian, its bones creaking as it moved, opened the doors of his office for him, and Vicente herded the child inside. Who seemed to shake even _more_ violently when the door closed behind them with a loud, echoing _click_. "Have a seat," Vicente beckoned. "Are you hungry?"

The boy made eye contact for the first time. His eyes said, _wait, what?_ and Vicente couldn't help but smirk a bit. Drly, he remarked, "We don't make a habit of starving our new recruits." The boy looked even _more_ nervous, now. _And I thought it wasn't possible._ He glanced down, shook his head, but Vicente bit back a sigh and pressed on. "Rice, perhaps?"

After a moment, the imperial boy nodded.

"Alright," Vicente stood up, moved to the door. The heavy thing swung open when Vicente pulled, and he looked to the dark guardian outside. "Rice and sauce for the little one, please. Oh, and get a jug and a glass of water."

The dark guardian began to lumber away, and Vicente closed the door again, striding to his table. The boy had sunk into a chair, and Vicente sat opposite him. The new recruits always felt better if they had something between them and the vampire.

"Not everyone acts like Tessa, you know," said the vampire. "She's impatient because she's always busy. Don't tell anyone I told you this," this made the imperial's chin lift the slightest bit, though his eyes didn't move from the table. Good sign. "but she never fit into the family before she became a silencer, anyway. Was far from loving. She came into the Brotherhood fifteen years ago, when she was pregnant with Melanie." Vicente sighed. "Of course, nobody _knew_ she was pregnant, back then, but I found out about it not long after," the vampire tapped his nose. "I can detect heartbeats, after all."

The boy blinked, then nodded slowly. He seemed to have relaxed, if only a little. He looked around the room silently, but always, the vampire noticed, kept Vicente in his vision.

That was better. Perhaps it was a bit early to broach the topic, but…

"So," said Vicente, lounging in his chair. Leaning back made him look less aggressive, and this boy scared faster than a startled rabbit. "How did your father die?"

"Fell down the stairs," the words came out so quietly that only Vicente's enhanced hearing let him hear. _So, he __can__ speak._

"How did he come to do that?" said Vicente.

The boy didn't answer._ Not to worry._

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Fourteen," he said. He stared nervously at the door. Vicente took advantage of the opportunity to examine the boy closely…

He looked like a _stick_.

"When's your birthday?"

Finally, the boy looked at him. "Thirteenth of Sun's Dawn."

"So you were born in 389?"

"I think so," the boy looked away again.

Vicente arched an eyebrow. "You think so."

The boy flushed a bit.

"You don't really know your birthday, do you?"

The boy didn't answer.

"Strange," said Vicente. "I've never met anybody who told lies while making eye contact, and spoke the truth while _not_."

The slightest trace of a smile appeared on the boy's face. He looked… almost _proud_? Vicente chuckled.

A knock sounded on the door. "Come in."

The doors opened, and the dark guardian walked into the room. A steaming plate of rice heaped with chicken and brown sauce hovered beside it, along with cutlery, an empty glass and a jug of water. "Ah, yes, thanks," said Vicente. "Put it down on the table there."

The boy looked _terrified_ now. Vicente frowned a little as the plate landed in front of the imperial, and he looked at it as if expecting his dinner to eat _him_. Vicente shooed the dark guardian out once the water landed safely – the way those skeletons used magicka unnerved him sometimes – and looked to the new recruit.

"It's not poisoned," he said.

The boy blinked, startled. So, whatever bothering him hadn't been the prospect of _that_. He stared at the plate.

Vicente shook his head. This boy would be a tough one. Usually Vicente had to deal with angry children, or those who'd broken down from the stress (those ones were harder to guide, but not impossible). Rarely had one been so quiet. Not since…

"Tessa was like you when she came in, you know," said Vicente, plopping himself back into his chair. The boy still stared at his plate. "She didn't speak a word for two weeks. Don't worry about not finishing it; eat as much as you want. Or as little, if you so desire."

The boy still stared at his plate. Then glanced up very warily at Vicente. "This is all for _me_?" he said. He looked…

Suspicious. And, almost hidden deep in those intriguing eyes… _angry_.

"Yes, it is," Vicente smiled, leaning back again. He put one ankle onto the other knee, and draped his arms over the back of the chair. Best to look as harmless as possible. Things started to click together in his head… "All for you. We want to make sure everybody's fed up so they can be as strong as possible. Anything that's not eaten goes to the rat anyway."

"Rat?" the boy blinked at him.

"His name's Plot," said Vicente. "Ungolim brought him here a couple of years ago – that bosmer tends to make himself home at all the Sanctuaries. He'll be a high ranking member one day, mark my words."

Vicente took a critical look at the brown-haired boy in front of him as he ate. He was skinny, and horribly shy. He probably wouldn't last long in the Brotherhood. But now that Vicente had seen that glimpse of anger, he knew the boy would probably do something rash and lash out. But, that depended… "Can you fight?"

"I don't fight," said the boy, reluctantly spooning some of the food into his mouth. He seemed to brighten up, and looked at the rest of it longingly. It seemed to take all of his self control to eat slowly. Maybe he didn't want to seem greedy?

The way he'd been suspicious at the offering of all the food… the stick-like appearance of his body… the boy wasn't used to getting fed. At least, not without suffering for it. No wonder his father had ended up on the bottom of the stairs.

Funny. That was the most confrontational sentence the boy had said _yet_, which could mean that he was trying to block the conversation from going in that direction. "But you can do other things, right?" better play with things first before trying to get a confession out of him. "Poison, perhaps?"

The boy shook his head. Was that at 'poison' or the accusation of doing 'other things'? Who knew? But Vicente knew that the father's fall down the stairs couldn't have been an accident. Not if the Listener told Tessa to collect him. "Have you ever rigged up a trap?" said Vicente.

The boy opened his mouth – then scowled. The scowl wiped off his face quicker than loose grime. So, he was used to pretending as well. "I didn't rig anything up." He spooned more rice into his mouth, then said, "I don't know why you'd think so."

Time to try something different. "How did Tessa find you?"

The boy stopped eating, then. Looked regretfully at the rice, as he put the spoon onto the table. He didn't look up as he said, "I was in my house and she came. She got through the door. I locked it."

"She picked it, then," said Vicente. The boy probably knew that, but it didn't hurt to look an idiot.

The boy nodded. "Picked it," he murmured, still staring at the spoon.

"So what did she do?"

"Said I should come with her," said the boy. Then went silent.

Vicente probed his mind. He'd managed to befriend and get otherwise quiet children to open up to him and chat to him, he'd manage it with this one. "What have you been doing since your father's death?"

The boy shrugged. "Stayed inside," he said.

"How was your mother coping?"

"Don't have a mother," said the kid.

"Is she dead?"

"Don't know."

"She left?"

"When I was five."

The boy seemed _very_ determined not to speak much. Never mind – Vicente could get information about him later. Best he warmed up to Vicente first, _then_ he'd speak. A lot of the kids who came in talked about themselves a lot – something that teenagers seemed to love to do – but there was the occasional one who ended up quiet…

"Would you like to meet Plot?" said Vicente.

The boy finally looked up at him. "Plot?"

"The rat."

"Is it a big rat?"

"Yep," Vicente smirked a bit. "_Huge_. And very scary."

The boy's forehead twitched in the slightest of irritated frowns, and Vicente checked himself. _And very scary_, he'd said. He'd sounded as if he'd talked to a child, though in Brotherhood terms, anybody under twenty five was as good as one. "Okay," said the boy, but didn't stand up until Vicente did. He looked to the food regretfully.

"Just leave it there," said Vicente. "I'll get Martha to clear it up later."

"Martha?" murmured the boy, trotting at Vicente's side as they emerged into the corridor.

"The dark guardian," said Vicente. When the boy still looked confused, he said, "The skeleton. She was our last Speaker."

The boy seemed to stiffen a moment, and then said, "You keep old members as slaves?"

Vicente shrugged. "It's not like she's using her body anymore. Her soul's not here. This way, even in death she can serve the Brotherhood."

"I suppose so," said the boy. They went up the stairs, into the main room. The puddle had been cleared up, the clothes had vanished, and the boy seemed oblivious to his still-damp state.

The dormitory was mostly empty when Vicente opened it, except for the middle-aged imperial man sleeping in one of the beds, the bosmer curled up on the floor in a blanket, and a small lump on another bed.

"I imagine everyone else is either out or in the training room," said Vicente, keeping his voice down. He looked at the lump, and sighed. "Poor Mel. Stand there a moment," he said to the boy, who lolled by a pillar as Vicente sat next to the lump and peeled off the blanket, revealing fur and somebody curled up quite tightly around it.

"Melanie," he said. "If you don't let Plot go a bit, he might suffocate."

The ball sniffed, and uncurled a little. "Sorry," she murmured. Vicente ran his fingers through the girl's hair.

"Just keep holding on," Vicente murmured. "If Tessa's not gone yet, she will be soon. I brought our new recruit in here. I think you might like him."

The girl looked up, seeing the boy by the pillar. He didn't duck his eyes, which people normally would when confronted with a crying girl. He looked at her in a way that said he understood. Vicente gave Missy a one-armed hug.

"This is Melanie," said Vicente. "We call her Missy, though. She's your age."

The boy nodded.

Those two would probably get along very well. They moped in the same way. Though, Vicente would have to be careful. Having two teenagers of very similar age but of opposite genders sleeping in the same room was something one had to be careful about. And Vicente always knew what happened if two attention-starved teenagers ran into one another…

_Ugh_. He had a feeling he was going to get quite the headache over the next few months, if the kid survived them. With any luck, Tessa would be too absent to notice anything and bully Missy for it.

Plot disrupted his thoughts, sticking his nose out. "We came to visit the rat," said Vicente. "I thought he'd be with you. How are you coping?"

"Fine," Missy seemed to pull herself together. "M – Tessa just left."

"Did she say goodbye?"

"No."

So, that was it. Vicente was going to have to have another word with Tessa – for all the good it would do. Tessa seemed to think that if you didn't beat a child, they'd be fine. _Ugh_. Then he'd have another headache.

The boy had moved to sit on the end of the bed, and patted Plot awkwardly. The rat snuffled at his hand.

"He doesn't bite," said Vicente, though the boy didn't seem afraid at all. "Plot's a lazy old fu- er – bugger."

The boy's lip curled into the slightest of smirks. Missy sniggered.

"So," Missy looked up at the boy. "Who're you?"

The boy didn't answer. Missy scowled, as he went on stroking Plot. Finally, he said, "Lucien." He licked his lips. "Lachance."

Missy smiled faintly. Plot crawled out of her lap and into Lucien's, where the rat collapsed with what had probably been a gargantuan effort for him, and fell asleep. Lucien chuckled.

Introducing silent kids to animals _never_ failed.

"Well," said Vicente, standing up and dusting himself off. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Missy was trustworthy, after all. "Lucien, I'll be in my office. Come by when you get tired and I'll sort out sleeping arrangements, since we're short a bed."

Lucien nodded, his eyes still on the rat. But as Vicente glanced back while he left the room, he finally saw him smile.


End file.
